


Just Images, Really

by leiaamidala



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Family, Gen, Post-ROTJ AU, Sibling Bonding, Skywalker Family Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-27 20:50:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10048727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiaamidala/pseuds/leiaamidala
Summary: Recovered archives speak of a lost Naboo queen and senator, seemingly erased from history by the Empire. When Mon Mothma sends Luke and Leia on a diplomatic mission to Naboo, the twins are forced to confront more truths about their bloodline, and Leia begins a journey down the road of forgiveness.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All right, guys, here it is. My first attempt at a Star Wars multi-chapter fic. I've been scared to try to write one because 1) I'm bad at writing consistently, and 2) multi-chapter SW fics have to involve some kind of plot, usually involving at least some intergalactic politics, which I know absolutely nothing about (Wookieepedia now has a permanent place in my tabs bar). But this fic idea would not get out of my head, so here we go.
> 
> This takes place approximately six months after the Battle of Endor. It does not take place in the Legends or the new canon, but it does borrow from both of them. Mostly names and locations, with possibly the occasional plot point thrown in. Basically, this is my own post-ROTJ universe where I can do as I please. Enjoy!

Leia was avoiding him. Again.

Luke understood. Really, he did. Maybe he would do the same in her situation. Except, no, he wouldn’t, but he could understand why Leia, being who she was, would.

That didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

_So this is what having a sibling is like,_ he thought. _Really sorry I missed out on it for twenty-five years_.

Normally, when this happened, he would meditate, allowing the Force to calm his nerves and remind him that his sister’s anxieties would fade with time; she would not keep him at a distance forever. However, the Force was sometimes, to put it bluntly, a pain in the ass, and for the past few weeks his meditation sessions had only left him frustrated and unsatisfied.

In a very Han-like fashion, to distract himself, Luke had taken to upgrading his X-wing.

He had been working on a particular modification for about a week now that, if done correctly, would make his thrusters two times more efficient. It had been a big job, requiring one or two parts that he’d asked Han to find through some underground markets; but he was almost finished now, and he was rather proud of himself.

“Shit!” Luke threw the wrench on the ground as it sent a jolt of electricity through his mechanical hand, briefly immobilizing it. He glared at the offending exposed wire as he cradled his arm, waiting for the circuitry to recover.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Luke turned around. “I never kissed my mother. Or knew her.”

Han’s smug grin disappeared. He rolled his eyes. “I have that part for you.”

“Great!” Luke said. “Where is it?”

“It’s on the Falcon,” Han said. “You can pick it up after your meeting.”

“Terrific. Wait, meeting?” The fingers of Luke’s prosthetic began to twitch. He held them still with his other hand.

Han raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Mon wanted me to tell you to head to the briefing room. I think it’s about a mission. Your hand okay?”

“It’ll be fine. What kind of mission?”

“I don’t know, kid. But she called Leia in, too. Just you and her, as far as I know.”

That got Luke’s attention, just as Han knew it would. Although he hadn’t seen Luke much the past couple weeks, he knew the kid had been a bit down. Han knew Leia well enough to not to bring it up with her, but she had been rather distant lately, and it seemed Luke was getting the worst of it.

“All right,” Luke said, picking up the wrench and tossing it into his toolbox. “I’ll head there now.”

Flexing his mechanical fingers, Luke took off toward the briefing room.

 

* * *

 

Mon Mothma greeted him with a courteous smile as he entered, still wearing his greasy t-shirt with the sleeves of his flight suit tied around his waist.

“Commander Skywalker. Thank you for joining us.”

The only other person in the room was Leia, seated on the opposite side of the table. She looked up to meet his eyes and smiled—a warm, genuine smile. It was something Luke wholeheartedly appreciated: even when Leia was distant with him, she was never cold.

She eyed his dirty clothes and shook her head, still smiling. Luke sat down across from her and gave his attention to Mon.

“The Alliance is opening up negotiations with Naboo.” She looked to Luke. “How familiar are you, Commander, with the political history and status of the planet?”

Naboo? “Vaguely. It’s relatively close to the Outer Rim, so news occasionally got out to Tatooine, but I was never very well-versed in its politics. I understand it played a rather important role in the Clone Wars, and for a time was a great ally of the Jedi.”

“Until its senator had all of them killed and took over the galaxy.” Luke looked over to see Leia looking at him, her eyebrow raised, a humorless smirk on her lips. He conceded and shrugged. That _was_ a rather important detail.

“Yes, well.” Mon dropped her gaze to her datapad and cleared her throat. “Naboo’s involvement in the Senate at that time was… complicated, to say the least.”

It was Luke’s turn to cock a brow. “Complicated?”

Mon opened her mouth to speak, but Leia cut her off.

“It’s my understanding that Naboo was treated rather well by the Empire,” she said, “and much of its leadership has been supportive of the Emperor. What makes you believe they would support the Alliance?”

“It is true,” Mon replied, “that Palpatine showed favor to his home planet. However, while the government itself has supported the Empire, the vast majority of the general population does not. There were many public celebrations on the planet after Endor and Palpatine’s death, and there have been rumors for some time that their current queen is a rebel sympathizer. Which aren’t rumors anymore. She has reached out to us personally.

“As you said, Commander, Naboo had very strong ties to the Jedi. That alliance is the main reason I’m hoping to have you on board for this mission. Commander Skywalker, you are, as far as we know, the last surviving Jedi, and that makes you a valuable connection to Naboo’s past. And, from what I understand, you hope to one day rebuild the Order?”

Leia shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Luke sat up straight. “Yes, Senator, I do,” he said, “but I won’t be able to start for a while. Not until the New Republic is more stable.”

Mon smiled. “This mission will certainly bring us a step closer to that stability.” She picked up the datapad from the table and handed it to Leia, who began to scroll through its contents. “You, Princess, will travel to Naboo to make the negotiations, accompanied by your Jedi escort, Commander Skywalker. The assignment will last approximately a month, with an estimated travel time of ten to twelve days one way. It has been arranged for you to stay at the Queen’s palace as her guests.”

Leia looked up from the screen. “Why is Han not listed as the pilot?”

The corners of Mon’s lips tightened at Leia’s casual use of Han’s name, but said nothing except, “General Solo will not be joining you for this mission.”

Luke and Leia didn't look much alike, but at that moment, the confusion on their faces was identical.

"I beg your pardon?" Leia kept her tone as light as possible, but Luke could hear the tightening of her voice.

“He and his ship are needed for our smuggling mission to Chandrila.”

"Excuse me," Leia said, “but what part of that mission specifically requires General Solo and his ship? We have other freighters and other pilots.”

“It was a collective decision made by command that he was the best choice."

"'Command'? Meaning you and Dodonna?"

Mon gave her a warning look. "The mission to Chandrila is not the subject of this meeting."

Leia said nothing but returned the hard stare.

Luke cleared his throat. “Who will be our pilot?”

“A young woman by the name of Skye Doorna. She is a native to Widow, so she is familiar with the Naboo system and its political atmosphere. You will also be accompanied by a small team of foot soldiers, in case of any trouble, though we don’t expect much.”

Leia scoffed. “Skye Doorna is barely experienced enough to pilot a ten-day trip. Surely you would want someone with a bit more—”

“This is _not_ up for debate.”

And with those words from Mon, Luke knew that was the end of it.

“Now,” she continued. “Do you accept this mission, Commander?”

Luke glanced at Leia, who continued to glower, before responding, “Yes, I do.”

“And you, Princess?”

Leia sighed. “Yes.”

“Excellent,” said Mon. “You will leave in two days. If and when there is any additional information for you, I will see that you get it. Thank you for your time. You may go.”

 

* * *

 

“She’s doing this on purpose,” Leia said as soon as they left the briefing room and walked down the corridor to the hangar bay.

“What?” They were headed for Luke’s X-wing, where he hoped to deal with the exposed wire before packing up for the day and cleaning up for dinner.

“Assigning Han and I on separate missions,” Leia said, leaning against the ship as Luke slipped on some shock-proof gloves and began to examine its wiring. “She’s been like this ever since he moved into my apartment last month.”

“Last month? He’s been living there longer than that.” Luke gently pulled at one of the wires to find where it led. It snapped in two. _Well, shit_.

“Not officially. Up until then his documented residency was the _Falcon_.” Leia rolled her eyes. “I think, before his records were updated, Mon was still able to convince herself that nothing was happening between us, but that’s a little harder now that she has to see our matching apartment number every time she pulls up our files.” She peered over his shoulder. “Hey, if you break your ship, you’re not getting another one.”

“I’m not going to break it.” Luke threw the snapped wire on the ground. “And besides, the Alliance wouldn’t leave its _best_ pilot without a ship.”

“Want to test that theory?”

“Maybe not.”

“Right. Anyway, Mon has probably come up with some other perfectly innocent excuse as to why we’re living together to tell herself. Whatever helps her sleep at night, I guess.”

“She was a friend of your father’s. She cares about you,” Luke said, “and she wants what’s best for you, in her own Mon way.”

“What she wants,” Leia said, “is to barter for some Outer Rim planet’s allegiance with my virginity.”

Luke winced. “Okay, I don’t—”

“I should just walk up to her one day,” she continued, “in front of everyone, and say right to her face, ‘Sorry, Mon, but I threw it out the airlock on the way to Bespin.’”

“Leia, I—”

“Oh, I get it! That’s why she wants the _Falcon_ so badly. She wants to send in a team to look for it!” Leia kicked Luke’s toolbox, rattling its contents.

“I don’t want to have this conversation.”

Leia sighed. “Sorry.” She resumed her casual leaning. “I know she wants what’s best for me, really. I’m almost grateful. But she’s looking at Han the way she _thinks_ my father would look at him. Which isn’t how my father would actually look at him at all.”

“How _would_ your father look at him?”

“He would like Han.”

“Really?”

Leia bit her lip. “Okay, he might think he was too old for me.”

Luke grinned. “Han _is_ too old for you.”

“Shut up.” But she smiled back, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, no life or death situations to distract them or orders to carry out, just talking and teasing and oversharing—like _siblings_ —and Luke wished it would never end.

Luke tugged off his gloves and tucked them into the box. “Are you heading to dinner?”

“I’m eating with Han on the _Falcon_ tonight.”

“Oh, okay.” Luke hid his disappointment behind a smile.

“I’ll have to break the news to him.” She sighed and began to walk away.

“Hey, do you mind if I drop in later?” Luke said. “Han has a part for me.”

Leia turned back. “Is this part going to end up blowing up your ship?”

“No!”

Leia smiled. “I’ll make sure Han has his pants on.”

“Ew.”

With one final, teasing grin, she headed off in the direction of the _Falcon_.

Luke shut his toolbox and left for his own apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated for a long time about whether or not Han should go with them, but ultimately decided against it. This story is Luke and Leia-centric; but never fear, Han will not be completely MIA (he'll be in the next couple chapters, plus there's always the space equivalent of Skype!). Also, when doing research I found the estimated travel time one way between Coruscant and Naboo to be about a month, but I shortened it here because holy shit, that is just way too long. This ain't a trip to Bespin fic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia and Han leave a few things unspoken. Mon gives Leia some more information.

The Alliance-issued apartments on Coruscant were hardly luxury, but for Leia and Han, the living space was sufficient. Neither of them had many material possessions they needed space for, and the few things they had could find plenty of room aboard the _Falcon_. Here, they had a bedroom, a kitchen, and a living room, and that was enough.

“She can’t do that.”

“Actually, she can.”

Han was sprawled across the couch, his head in Leia’s lap, his feet dangling over the side. There was one thing the apartment did need, Leia thought: a longer sofa. The holovision was on, but at low volume, and neither of them were paying any attention to it.

Han stared up at her, his brow furrowed.

“She shouldn’t be able to,” he grumbled.

“Well, I’ll be sure to file a complaint at the next meeting,” said Leia. Her fingertips gently brushed through his hair, soothing her nerves just a bit. Evenings like this—where the two of them could simply be, and enjoy each other’s company—gave her a sense of normalcy she could rarely find elsewhere.

It was going to be a long month.

“We could talk to Rieekan,” Han said. “See if he can pull some strings.”

Leia sighed and shook her head. “Going to dad because mom said no is a bit childish, don’t you think?”

Han groaned. “Never refer to Mon and Rieekan as ‘mom and dad’ again.”

“Well, I don’t want to bother Rieekan with this. It is what it is. Apparently, Chandrila _desperately_ needs you.” She rolled her eyes.

“Couldn’t they at least put me on a longer mission? Chandrila will hardly take a week. I’m gonna need a distraction when you’re gone.”

“ _That_ is something you can bring up with General Rieekan.” Leia continued to stroke his hair. Yes, they could fight this, and insist that Han be reassigned, but would it really be worth the effort? Mon was a good person, but stubborn, and if she demanded that Han go to Chandrila, Han almost certainly would. And Leia going through such efforts to stay with Han would definitely not help convince Mon and Dodonna that she wasn’t too love-struck to practice good judgment, as she suspected they thought. No, Mon would get her way, and that was that.

Han removed his head from her lap and sat up. He settled next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. They sat together and watched the holovision, where a monotone newscaster discussed the latest royal scandal in the Hapes Cluster.

“Prince Isolder declined to comment on his secret marriage to this mystery woman, but a family representative says they are quite happy together and plan to make a formal public appearance after the honeymoon.”

“Just think,” Han leaned in and whispered into her ear as images of a young, beautiful but slightly rugged woman flashed across the screen. “That could have been you.”

Leia elbowed him in the ribs. About a month ago, Mon had approached her with an offer of marriage from Prince Isolder as a potential political alliance. Leia had immediately, wholeheartedly refused, and luckily Mon hadn’t pressed her on it. If Isolder had been disappointed, however, it hadn’t taken long for him to recover, and soon the gossip channels were raving non-stop about his secret marriage to a mysterious woman from Dathomir. Leia’s only reaction had been relief.

“She’s very intriguing,” she said. “Dathomir is hardly the first place anyone looks for a wife suitable for a prince.”

“Oh?” Han said. He scooted in closer, his lips brushing against the skin of her neck. He smiled against her skin as she suppressed a shiver. “What about a husband suitable for a princess?” He pressed a kiss behind her ear. “Where do you find those?”

The weight of his words didn’t sink in until after Leia had laughed and said, “Not on Corellia.”

Han pulled back, and Leia’s grin disappeared. _Oh, god._

They had never broached the subject of marriage—at least, not while sober. Once, after Wedge’s birthday party—or rather, a raucous night of drinking _disguised_ as a birthday party—Han had gotten down on one knee at the bottom of the _Falcon_ ’s ramp and drunkenly declared her his fiancée. Leia, who was nearly as inebriated as he was, had only laughed and demanded he go to bed. Neither of them had brought it up since. Leia wondered if he even remembered it.

She didn’t hate the idea. But with the rebellion, and all the chaos that had ensued during the fight to take back Coruscant from Imperial rule, and, well, _the rebellion_ , Leia didn’t know when it would be the right time—if it would _ever_ be the right time.

Still, on some nights, much like this one, it’d be on the tip of her tongue. She could tell it was on Han’s, too.

His arm was still around her shoulders. Without looking at him, Leia reached forward and picked up the holovision remote, shutting it off with the press of a button. She turned to him and drew her legs up onto the couch.

His expression was unreadable, but Leia could sense he was hurt. She wanted to say something, to finally speak of what had remained unspoken, but all she managed was:

“I’m going to miss you.”

Han let the silence linger for a moment.

“I know.”

Leia blinked, then broke into a grin and laughed. Han smiled back.

She laid her head in his lap, and let him comb his fingers through her hair.

 * * *

The crate sat to the side of the desk, drawing Leia’s eyes from her work. Her chin resting on her hand, she looked over the plain packaging, knowing the contents inside were anything but ordinary. It had arrived at her office this morning, accompanied by a note:

“A gift to Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan, as a token of friendship. My best wishes go with you. – Isolder.”

Evidently, Isolder had not taken her rejection of his marriage offer too hard. Instead, he had sent her this, possibly the most thoughtful gift anyone could give her: six bottles of rare wine, made on Alderaan.

Leia had shut the box right back up and refused to look at the bottles again. But now it sat there, and she couldn’t think about anything else.

Mon’s arrival came almost as a relief.

“Princess,” she said as she sat down on the opposite side of the desk, clutching a datapad, “I have some additional information for you regarding your trip to Naboo.”

Leia pretended to be distracted by the work she’d abandoned an hour ago, avoiding looking at both Mon and the box. “What kind of information?”

“Archives, mostly.” Mon set the datapad on the desk. “Records of Naboo’s recent history, particularly during the rise of the Empire.”

Leia looked up from her work. “I already have access to the archives on Naboo.”

Mon shook her head. “Not these.”

She took a deep breath, and Leia noticed she looked… nervous? As if she weren’t sure whether to speak. It was a rare sight to see Mon without words.

Mon cleared her throat. “You do, of course, know of the Jedi purge, and the events that led to Palpatine’s rise to power.”

Leia nodded. They had been over this.

“However, you may not be aware of the events which occurred not long after…another kind of purge, I suppose.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Leia said. “The Empire set out to destroy a great deal of things; you’ll have to be more specific.”

“What I’m referring to specifically is their assault on information.”

“Information?”

“Any news, records, historical documents—anything containing information that could be perceived as a threat to the Empire—was eradicated. People who spoke about things the Empire didn’t want to hear were assassinated.”

Leia heard a tightness in Mon’s voice as she continued:

“Several of my fellow senators fell victim to this.”

Mon trailed off, and a silence fell between them.

“I’m sorry, Senator,” Leia softened her voice. “But what does this have to do with Naboo?”

Mon picked the datapad up from the desk and held it out to Leia.

“In the early days of the rebellion, one of our primary objectives was preserving some of that which was set for destruction. Files or archives, holos or news reports, anything we thought was important to remember; many wrote diaries as a way of preserving their own memories.” Mon gestured at Leia with the datapad. “Your father,” she said, “led the efforts on Naboo.”

Leia slowly reached out and took the datapad. The screen lit up to reveal the interface.

“Bail sent as many people as he possibly could, gathered as much as he could find to preserve this information—information we thought had been lost with the destruction of Alderaan. We recently discovered, however, that your father stored many of his records—or at least copies—off-planet.”

Leia tapped at the screen, perusing the various files. The titles were all dates and abbreviations, and nothing particular stood out to her.

“He focused most of his attention on one particular person—a senator, and a former queen of Naboo.”

 Leia was about to choose a file to open when Mon spoke again.

“Her name was Padmé Amidala.”

Leia froze, her hand hovering over the screen.

“Did your father ever mention her to you?”

Leia kept her eyes on the screen as her stomach flipped.

“Princess?”

Leia snapped out of it and shook her head. “No,” she said, a knot forming in her throat.

Mon narrowed her eyes, but she continued. “She was elected queen at the age of fourteen, and served two terms before becoming a member of the Senate; not long before I did, in fact.”

Her voice wavered, just a bit. “She stood on the senate floor—at your father’s side, in fact—and watched Palpatine rise to power.”

Leia placed the datapad back on the desk, keeping her hand as steady as possible.

“Then why have I never heard of her?”

“The Empire didn’t just erase records,” Mon said, her voice soft, her eyes looking at something Leia could not see. “They erased people.”

Leia tried to swallow, but her mouth felt as dry as the sands of Tatooine.

“After she died, they took great care to remove her name from any document, destroy any holos, and wipe her memory from the public consciousness as if she never existed. And they did a very good job of it.” A faint smile crept onto Mon’s lips. “Or so they thought. I do not believe they expected your father to have the foresight he did to save these records.”

“When did she die?”

“Right after the Jedi purge.”

“Just before I was born,” Leia said, speaking more to herself than Mon.

Mon nodded. “Bail worked hard to preserve Padmé Amidala’s place in history, and this”—she gestured to the datapad—“is the fruit of his labor.”

Leia rested her hand on it, but did not pick it back up. She stared at it for a moment, thinking of her father, and his great efforts to keep this particular woman’s memory alive, and for what?

“Mon,” she said, dropping the formal title, “I still don’t see how this information will help with the mission.”

Mon pushed herself out of her chair. “Helping Naboo regain what it has lost,” she said, “will help its people start to heal. You can give them that.”

Mon gave her a gentle smile and began to head for the door. Leia stood to see her out.

Mon stopped in the doorway and turned back.

“Princess,” she said, “I know you think I have some kind of…vendetta against General Solo.”

Leia, taken aback by the sudden change of topic, crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t you?”

“General Solo has earned a lot of my respect over the past few years for his acts of heroism in serving the Alliance. He is an excellent pilot, and, from what I can tell, a good man.”

“He _is_ a good man.”

“Leia,” she said, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Leia sighed. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

Mon nodded. “I know,” she said as she walked out the door.

 * * *

Han returned to the apartment to find Leia sitting cross-legged on their bed, surrounded by clothing strewn about the room, staring at a datapad that wasn’t even on. She didn’t seem to hear him come in. He stood in the doorway and cleared his throat, startling her out of her daze. The way she looked at him, he couldn’t help but feel as if he’d walked in on a secret.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, picking up the datapad and setting it aside.

He raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

Leia looked around the room at the various pieces of clothing. “I was just packing.”

“Doesn’t look like you’ve done much of that.”

She pushed herself off the bed and picked up one of her shirts. “I got distracted.”

Han approached the bed and reached to pick up the datapad, and was taken aback when Leia dropped the shirt and snatched it up before he had the chance.

“All right,” he said, taking a step back with his hands up.

She looked at him and sighed, tossing the datapad back onto the bed. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Rough day?”

“You could say that.”

He eyed the datapad. “What’s on there?”

Leia took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the mattress. “I don’t know.”

Han lifted an eyebrow and reached for it again. “Well,” he said, pressing the on button, “it helps if you turn it on, sweetheart.”

The screen lit up, and the number pad appeared, awaiting the passkey. Han held it out to her. Leia took it, hesitating for a moment, and punched in the code. The files were exactly how she’d left them several hours ago, before she’d shut the datapad off, too scared to open any of them.

Leia dragged her finger up and down the surface, scrolling through the list. “My father hid these records from the Empire before they could be destroyed,” she said. “I—I think there might be something here…about me.”

The glow of the screen illuminated her expressionless face. She didn’t look at him, simply stared at the files without opening any.

“About you?”

She nodded. “About me…and Luke.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in.

“Oh,” he said, “you mean about you and Luke—”

“Where we came from.”

Han watched her in silence as she shut off the datapad.

“My father saved these for a reason,” she said, finally looking him in the eye. “I think it was for me to find.”

“Sweetheart.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in, kissing the top of her head. “What do you think is in there?”

Leia rested her forehead against his shoulder.

“I don’t think I can tell you.”

Han let his arm fall. “Leia,” he said, “I don’t give a damn about where you came from, you know that. I didn’t give a damn about Vader and I couldn’t care less about what’s in those files.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…” She bit her lower lip, trying to find the right way to say this.

“I think,” she finally said, “that Luke deserves to be the first one to know.”

It had been six months, and the two of them had barely had any serious discussions about their origins. Luke had been her best friend for so long, and then on the bridge on Endor he’d told her the truth, and it had felt _good_ and _right_ ; but when the dust had settled, Leia had told Luke in no uncertain terms that she could never, _would_ never call Vader her father. Luke had simply assured her that she didn’t have to, and that was it. Since then, the most in-depth conversations they’d had regarding their newfound blood relation were light-hearted arguments about who was older, and even those could serve as painful reminders of where they’d really come from.

“That is,” she said, “unless Mon gave him the same information.” She set the datapad back on the bed. “But even if she did, he wouldn’t see the connection.”

Han reached over and gently took one of her hands in his. Whatever was in those files had shaken her, and before she had even opened them.

“Then talk to him,” he said. “Tell him what you think you’ve got. Then go from there.”

Leia nodded and squeezed Han’s hand reassuringly. He stood up and pulled her with him before taking her into his arms. She leaned into his embrace, breathing in the scent of him, feeling his warmth through the fabric of his shirt.

“Now,” he murmured, “are you going to let me take you to the _Falcon_ and give you a proper goodbye?”

She looked up to meet his eye and smiled.

“I think,” he said, a gleam in his eye, “that I can help get your mind off of it for a little while.”

Leia rolled her eyes and broke away, taking his hand and leading him out of the apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came up with a new SW fic-writing drinking game: take a shot every time you use the word datapad (I'm already dead). 
> 
> For the record, I have not read COPL and have no desire to. I have no idea what Isolder is actually like outside of what I read on Wookieepedia. I could have gotten his character all wrong. Do I care? Mildly, but not enough to do anything about it.
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, comments and kudos are always appreciated :).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke searches for a connection to the past; Leia and Han say goodbye.

Mon had handed Luke the datapad filled with the recovered files on the history of the Jedi temple approximately six hours ago, and he hadn’t put it down since. Seated cross-legged on the floor of his apartment, he combed through the files, looking for something— _anything—_ that he could connect to Anakin Skywalker. A search for his name had come up blank. A search for Kenobi—both Ben and Obi-Wan—came up blank. Vader, Palpatine, Sidious. Nothing. Luke’s heart leapt in his chest when a search for Yoda issued results, but it sank as he realized that all the entries mentioning his former master were far too old to have any relation to Anakin (Yoda really _hadn’t_ been lying when he’d said he was nine hundred). The latest entries were from about seventy years ago, and though Luke wasn’t actually sure how old his father had been before he turned, he suspected it was a bit less than fifty.

The Empire had truly done a good job at destroying this information, and Luke supposed it made sense—from a certain point of view, as Obi-Wan would say. Information about Anakin Skywalker finding its way into the wrong hands could prove a threat to Palpatine’s careful plan to use Vader as his pawn.

Luke sighed and shifted gears to what he was really meant to be doing, looking for the entries mentioning Naboo. The last entries, cross-referenced with the Jedi, were nearly thirty years old. Perhaps that was a start.

“The Battle of Naboo,” he mumbled, picking an entry at random.

He glanced over the document, picking out the important details. About thirty-five years ago, the Trade Federation invaded Naboo in order to gain control of the planet’s trade routes. The Federation’s forces were defeated by a gungan army, two Jedi, and—Luke was surprised to read—a nine-year-old boy; all were led by a queen by the name of Amidala. There was no mention of the names of the Jedi or the boy, but something about the entry stood out to Luke in a significant way.

 _Ben_ , he thought, closing his eyes and reaching out to the Force. _Please, help me_.

Ben didn’t answer. Luke got the vague suspicion that whatever significance these archives had, he would have to figure it out on his own.

Luke shut off the datapad and stood up, cringing at the stiffness in his back and legs. Deciding it would be best to get some sleep before leaving tomorrow, Luke headed to the fresher to get ready for bed. There would be plenty of time to go over the archives during the ten days on the ship, and to try and figure out the significance of that battle.

 _Amidala._ He found himself mouthing the name as he stepped into the shower. He’d never heard it before, but it felt natural on his tongue, in spite of it being from a foreign language. Luke wondered what it meant.

When he’d finished washing up and stepped out of the fresher, he changed into his sleepwear and crawled into bed. He’d finished packing earlier that day (and he’d honestly never been more grateful to Yoda for teaching him levitation _, improper use of the Force_ be damned), and was ready to embark on the mission tomorrow.

As ready as he’d ever be.

* * *

Leia thought sex with Han was better on the _Falcon_.

Not that sex with Han was ever bad ( _quite_ the opposite), but there was something about the ship that fostered a sense of intimacy and had the power to thoroughly overwhelm her. She’d never spoken of it aloud, but she knew Han felt it, too. On the trip to Bespin, when they’d finally overcome their fears and uncertainties and opened up to one another both emotionally and physically, Leia had grown accustomed to the gentle hum of the engine, the various creaks and groans that Han insisted were nothing to worry about. Even when the _Falcon_ sat docked in the hangar bay, she swore she could still hear those sounds; it was almost music to her. It had taken a few years, but Leia finally understood why Han believed his ship was alive.

No apartment on Coruscant could ever compare.

Leia was once again grateful that, since that trip to Bespin, Han had made a few modifications, and the bunk in the captain’s quarters was now twice as large. Though she’d loved spending each night with him here, it had been a bit cramped, and Leia found she usually needed space to breathe as she came down from her climax.

She fell back against the mattress, sweat sticking to her skin, while Han lay beside her in a similar state.

A grin spread across her face. “You sure know how to tell a girl goodbye.”

He laughed. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

As her heartrate slowly returned to normal, the air grew cold against her skin. Leia reached down and pulled the covers over both of them, clutching the blanket to her chest. She rolled over onto her side to face Han and rested her hand, palm up, on the mattress between them.

“So,” she sighed, “a month.”

“Yeah,” he said, still looking at the ceiling.

“Still thinking about calling up Rieekan? I’m not so against it anymore.”

He chuckled, finally turning to face her. He reached out and took her hand, loosely entwining his fingers with hers.

“Sweetheart,” he said, “I think that ship’s left the hangar bay.”

Leia scooted closer to him, placing her other hand on his waist. She pressed her cheek against his hand and shut her eyes. He kissed her forehead and buried his nose in her hair.

For a moment, they simply held each other, listening to the other’s breathing and feeling their pulse under each other’s skin. Leia nearly drifted off, before Han’s voice broke the stillness.

“Leia.”

“Hmm?” she replied, her eyes still closed.

“Maybe it’s for the best.”

Leia’s eyes fluttered open. She pulled away to look at him. “What?”

“It might be good, you know…if I’m not there.”

He let go of her hand and trailed his down her arm, stopping where her other was placed on his hip, as she continued to stare at him.

“I just mean…” He sighed. “Whatever it is you think you’ve got in those files—about you and Luke…you gotta figure that out with him. Without me.”

Leia opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.

“I’d just be a distraction.”

Leia blinked at him for a moment; and then she pulled away, rolling onto her back to stare up at the ceiling.

“Maybe I want a distraction,” she mumbled, absentmindedly tracing her eyes over the familiar lines in the metallic grates overhead.

“Yeah,” he replied, “and that’s the problem.” When she didn’t respond, he continued, “You’re avoiding the poor kid.”

Leia wrinkled her nose. “Don’t call him kid.”

“…I always call him kid.”

“You’re sleeping with me.”

“So?”

“We’re the same age.”

Han fell silent. Finally, he said, “You’re changing the subject.”

Leia sighed and shook her head. She hadn’t been _avoiding_ Luke. At least, she didn’t think so. Sure, she hadn’t spent much time with him lately, but that was only because she’d been busy, and Luke had his own things to do; and okay, maybe being around him was sometimes hard because he was her brother (her _little_ brother) but acknowledging him as such meant acknowledging the rest of her bloodline and—

Leia swung her legs over the edge of the mattress and pushed herself to her feet. As she made her way to the fresher, she picked up her discarded underwear and Han’s shirt off the floor. She shut the door behind her without another word.

It wasn’t until Leia had slipped the shirt over her head and began to brush her teeth that she began to feel the full weight of his words.

_About you and Luke…you gotta figure that out with him._

Deep down, Leia knew she was right about what was in those archives, and that meant Luke deserved to know—even if it scared her to her core, even if it could mean finding something about them even worse than what they already knew. Though what could possibly be worse than Darth Vader?

Leia shuddered as she spat and rinsed off her toothbrush. There _were_ things worse than Darth Vader. She didn’t want to find them.

 _I’d just be a distraction, sweetheart_.

She glanced over herself in the mirror—hair disheveled, cheeks still a bit pink, her lips slightly swollen. Physical traces of Han’s touch on her skin.

With Han, things were easy.

Too easy.

Leia was wiping her mouth with a towel when he knocked.

“Leia,” she heard through the door, “I’m sorry.”

Wordlessly, she palmed the controls and let him in.

He’d put on the loose-fitting pants he usually wore to bed, and his hair was almost as messy as hers. It was a vulnerable side to him that she alone got to see, and as he looked down at her with nothing but worry and affection, she sighed and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his bare chest. He held her close and kissed the top of her head.

“It’s all right,” she said.

 He stroked her hair. “Don’t push him away.”

Leia nodded and shut her eyes, breathing him in. God, she was going to miss this.

“Marry me.”

Leia’s eyes snapped open. She backed out of his embrace, thinking she couldn’t possibly have heard him right.

He smiled and took her hands in his.

“Marry me,” he said once more, and this time, Leia heard it loud and clear.

There was a pause, a moment of stillness—and then, she began to laugh.

It definitely wasn’t the response Han had been expecting. “What?” A shocked expression replaced his smile.

“Han Solo,” she giggled, pulling her hands out of his grasp and covering her face with them, “did you just propose to me in the fresher?”

His mouth fell open in astonishment, and he backed away, putting his hands in the air. “Hey, _Princess_ ,” he teased, “at least I’m sober this time.”

Leia dropped her hands to her sides and looked down at the floor. “You remember that.”

“I didn’t know if you did. I meant it, you know.”

She shook her head, still smiling. Then she reached out, placed her hands on his chest, and pushed him out the door back into the bunkroom. Still not the most romantic spot, but it would do.

“Try again, flyboy.”

Han laughed. “Okay, okay.” He placed his hands over hers, which were still pressed against his chest.

“Leia,” he said, “marry me.”

She didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“Okay, hotshot.”

 * * *

Luke eyed the massive trunk as a group of men rolled it up the ramp. “All of that is clothes?” he asked, watching the team of four struggle to load it onto the ship.

“It’s only a few items.”

“Only a _few_?”

“They’re very…elaborate,” Leia replied. “Mon wanted me to have some traditional Naboo garb.”

“What’s ‘traditional Naboo garb’?”

“You don’t want to know.”

He grinned. “I can’t wait.”

Leia raised an eyebrow. “I hope you’re as excited to see yours.”

Luke’s face fell. “What? Mon didn’t say anything to me!”

Leia only laughed and turned back to watch the crew carry the rest of their luggage into the ship. It wasn’t the largest transport, but it had enough room for their pilot, the crew, and the two of them. Luke and Leia each had their own quarters, while the rest shared a rather large living space. The ship had been built for long trips like this one, and therefore the entire party could look forward to a rather comfortable—if not a bit boring—journey.

As the two of them watched the crew, Luke found himself distracted by the nervous energy building beside him. Leia seemed to be growing more and more uneasy as they stood there in the middle of the hangar bay, waiting for their pilot to arrive. Every so often she would glance over at him, then quickly look back at the ship when he caught her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, after her anxiety had become practically deafening.

“I’m fine,” she replied just a bit too quickly. “I just want Lieutenant Doorna to get here.”

As she said that, a young, dark-haired, dark-complexioned woman Luke didn’t recognize approached them.

“Princess Leia, Commander Skywalker.” She saluted each of them. “I’m Lieutenant Skye Doorna. I’ll be your pilot for this trip. Do you have any questions or concerns for me?”

She seemed nice enough, to Luke at least. Skye looked about their age, perhaps a bit younger, and was around Leia’s height. Come to think of it, he had seen her a couple times around the base, but he’d never spoken to her before.

“When will we be leaving?” Leia asked.

“We’ll begin preparing for takeoff in about fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you.”

After Skye left, Luke still felt the discomfort radiating from his sister. She began to fidget with the hem of her shirt.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again.

She nodded. “I’m sure.”

Luke could always tell when Leia was lying (and he assumed she could tell with him, though he’d never dared to test that theory), but he could also tell when it wasn’t a good idea to call her out on it. It was an unspoken agreement between them that neither would exploit their ability to sense each other’s emotions. Luke was forced to nod and let it go.

Han and Chewie approached, having just finished preparing the _Falcon_ for the Chandrila mission.

“Hey, kid,” Han said, taking a hold of Luke’s shoulder. “The _Falcon_ ’s gonna be awful quiet without you wandering around.” Chewie warbled in agreement.

“Yeah,” Luke replied, “and our trip is gonna be boring without us needing to fix something every few hours.”

Han chuckled as he pulled Luke into a hug.

“Look out for her,” was all he said. Luke nodded.

Han let go of him and went to Leia. Luke’s view of the two of them was soon blocked by Wookiee fur (which was probably a blessing, to be honest) as Chewie embraced him and wished him and Leia a safe journey.

When Luke looked at Han and Leia again, he couldn’t help but notice that something was…different. It took a moment for him to realize that Leia’s anxiety had greatly diminished upon Han’s arrival; and while that wasn’t necessarily strange on its own, there was something brighter about the two of them, together. Luke watched as Han leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Leia’s face broke into a smile, one Luke hadn’t seen on his sister in a while. They embraced one more time before Han planted a kiss on her forehead, and Leia broke away and rejoined Luke.

She gave him a pointed look.

 _Stop reading me_ , he heard in his mind. Luke hadn’t realized just how much he’d been scrutinizing her until she pushed him away, putting up the walls that both impressed and alarmed him. He wondered how she’d gotten so good at blocking people out. Maybe it was the years of political negotiation, learning to defend against any outside forces that could manipulate her. Or maybe, he thought with a grimace, it was the Death Star, when those walls were the only thing standing between the Empire and the secrets of the rebellion. Whatever it was, Luke wished she’d let him train her. Or at least tell him how she did it.

 _My sister could become the most powerful person in the galaxy_ , he thought. _Then again, maybe that’s what she’s afraid of_.

“Are you ready to go?” Leia asked, glancing over at the crew who were just about finished loading everything. He couldn’t sense it in the Force anymore, but something in the way she spoke and moved told him her anxiety was steadily returning.

“Yeah.”

They took one more look at Chewie and Han, who gave them a final wave. Luke, in what he considered a bold move, took Leia’s hand. Though she seemed reluctant to tear her eyes away from Han, she didn’t pull away, and soon they were headed up the ramp and into the ship, where they began to prepare for takeoff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait! This chapter didn't seem to want to get written. Han and Leia's scene was particularly difficult, and I wanted it to do it justice. Hope I did that to some degree.
> 
> (if you'd like, you can follow me on tumblr at amidalleia, where I spend most of my time crying about star wars)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Leia grapple with new information.

_Day One_

Once Leia had crammed most of her belongings into the tiny drawers and storage spaces in her quarters, she pulled off her boots and collapsed onto her bunk, with the datapad she was trying to ignore in the duffel bag at her feet. It had been an exhausting morning; she’d awoken with the realization that she’d never finished packing, and had practically sprinted down the ramp of the _Falcon_ , not even slowing down to enjoy the looks on new recruits’ faces (she could always tell they were new—everyone else had gotten used to the sight of her leaving Han’s ship wearing last night’s clothing). Leia had returned to her apartment and been shocked by just how much of a mess she’d made the night before. After taking great pains to pack (which almost, _almost_ made her want to ask Luke how to do that Force levitation thing), she’d spent the next two hours planning and preparing a thank you—along with a wedding present—to send to Isolder, trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach as her thoughts drifted to her own wedding.

_I’m engaged,_ she thought, a smile spreading across her face. _Han and I are engaged_.

They had agreed to keep their engagement to themselves for a while, until Leia returned from the mission—announcing it to everyone right before a month-long separation seemed pointless; and besides, they needed time to make real plans. It was another secret she was keeping from Luke, but Leia didn’t feel quite as guilty about this one.

Her guilt was currently sitting in a bag at the foot of her bunk.

Since last night, Leia had only opened one file: an article discussing a new bill being passed in the Senate. There had been a holo attached to it, but she had barely allowed herself to glance over it before closing the file; she wasn’t sure if she was ready to see the face of Senator Amidala.

Truthfully, she was afraid if she did, she might never look away.

Leia knew it was foolish. The datapad wasn’t just for her; it contained important information that would be valuable in negotiations, in proving to Naboo’s leaders and diplomats that the Alliance was working to heal wounds inflicted by the Empire. It was very clear, judging simply by the hundreds and hundreds of files, that this woman was valuable to Naboo’s history. And the fact that the Empire had worked so hard to erase her (and had very nearly succeeded) made it even more important that she be remembered.

And, even if no one else knew it yet, Padmé Amidala was very, very important to Leia and Luke.

Leia took a deep breath and sat up in her bunk, crossing her legs and resting her elbows on her knees. She stared at the bag, the datapad peeking out from under the half-opened zipper.

_Come on, Leia_. She bit her lip, daring herself to reach forward. _Don’t be a selfish idiot,_ she thought, _this isn’t all about you._

_Besides, even if it was…don’t you want to know?_

*

After fruitlessly searching for hours, coming up on dead ends with every search, Luke had a new strategy.

Instead of trying to look for _what_ information was missing, he began to look for _where_ it was missing—seeking out gaps in accounts; battles, events and laws referenced but without official records; footnotes that led nowhere. It meant sifting through each entry in chronological order to piece together a timeline, which—even if he was thoroughly enthusiastic about absorbing as much knowledge of the Jedi Order as possible—was perhaps the most boring endeavor of his life. He sat at a table in the lounge with Mon’s datapad propped up in front of him, his own personal device in his lap, and began to pour over the files one by one. A few crew members sat across the room, wrapped up in their own conversation. He tuned them out.

Rather than begin some hundred years ago, Luke decided to begin with the years leading up to the Jedi purge, starting with the Battle of Naboo. He had been unable to stop thinking about the entry since first reading it, and it seemed as good a place as any to start. This was a mission to the planet, after all.

He first noted the two Jedi who had successfully aided Naboo’s forces. Whether it had been a deliberate erasure by the Empire, or the writer of the entry had simply failed to mention their names, the fact that there was no record of who they were bothered Luke. Maybe they were simply two random Jedi who had no real connection to him.

But he couldn’t help but wonder if Anakin was one of them.

There was no one to confirm or deny his suspicions. Luke had entirely given up on contacting Ben or Yoda; and, much to his dismay, he hadn’t seen his father since Endor,

He moved on to the queen. _Amidala_. A search of the name on the datapad yielded a few results, mostly records of battles and missions during the Clone Wars. Though he had yet to peruse them in their entirety, a quick browse had given him some information. Her name was Padmé. She’d been elected queen at a very young age, and after her reign had ended (Luke was surprised to find that Naboo’s monarchy was democratic), she had been appointed to the Senate, where, from what Luke gathered, she’d been highly respected in her position. However, the records of her seemed to end sometime around the Jedi Purge.

Luke sighed and returned to the main screen. He’d get to that point on his timeline eventually.

He rubbed at his eyes, which were strained from squinting at the tiny words on the glowing display. He glanced at the time and found that once again, he had lost several hours of his day to these archives.

Luke looked up just in time to see Leia enter the lounge, clutching her own datapad in one hand and a half-eaten ration bar in the other; she didn’t see him at first. Her eyes scanned the room, and when she found him, she flinched—it was hardly visible, but Luke caught it—as if she hadn’t expected him to be there. He gave her a little wave and gestured toward the seat beside him.

She hesitated for a moment, but she nodded and crossed the room to him, tentatively setting the datapad on the table as she finished the ration bar.

“Hey,” Luke said, giving her a warm smile.

Leia brushed crumbs off her hands as she sat down. “Hey.”

“We have a galley, you know. You can have a real meal.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.” She glanced at his lap. “What are you doing?”

Luke picked up the datapad resting on his thighs and placed it beside the other. “Mon gave me some archives. I’m trying to map them out.”

“Oh.” She looked away to stare at her own datapad.

“I take it Mon gave you some, too.”

“Mhm.”

“Did she give you the same thing?” Luke asked, trying to gauge his sister’s reaction as she avoided his eye and bit at her thumbnail—a habit he’d come to notice over the years as an indication of deep thought.

“I don’t know,” she replied. She finally turned to look at him. “What did she give you?”

He picked up the datapad and held it out to her. “Histories of the Jedi Order, as well as accounts of battles and missions during the Clone Wars.”

Leia didn’t take it from him. “Oh,” she said. “That’s not what she gave me.”

Luke slowly set the datapad back on the table.

“Mine involve…Naboo politics.”

“Politics?”

"Laws, public events…people,” she continued. She returned to biting her nail. “Things the Empire wanted us to forget.”

“Things I wouldn’t have any clue about,” he joked.

Leia didn’t respond.

Luke took a deep breath. “Leia,” he said, trying to meet her eye, “are you mad at me?”

For a moment, she seemed taken aback by the question; but soon her features softened into something apologetic.

“No, Luke,” Leia said, shaking her head. “I’m not mad at you. I promise.” She sighed and dropped her gaze to her lap. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

Luke didn’t need to reach out to know her mental walls were still firmly in place.

“Not all bad, I hope,” he said.

Leia looked back up at him, her expression unreadable. “No,” she said. “Not all bad.”

He scooted just a bit closer on the bench. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She started to shake her head again, but stopped herself—again, a nearly imperceptible movement. She folded her arms across her chest, and a small half-smile appeared on her face.

“Ask me again sometime,” she said.

Luke hesitated before slowly returning the smile; her words evoked the memory of his arrival at Sullust. They were a comfort, a reminder that he too had once kept a secret from her (the biggest secret of his life, in fact), not out of anger or dishonesty, but out of love, and that sometimes it simply wasn’t the right time.

Leia would tell him when she was ready. Patience had never been his strong suit, but for her, he would wait.

“Yeah,” he said, “okay.”

Her half-smile turned to full. She patted his leg as she stood up.

“I think I will fix something in the galley,” she said, picking up her datapad. “Do you want to come with me?”

Almost as if on cue, Luke’s stomach growled. Leia laughed.

They made a meal for themselves, and ate it in almost complete silence before Leia returned to her quarters.

For Luke, that was enough, for now.

* * *

_Day Two_

Leia pressed the call button and returned to braiding her hair as she sat cross-legged on the bunk.

His face appeared after two rings. “Hey, sweetheart.”

She smiled at the sight of his lopsided grin. “Hey, you.”

Han’s voice was slightly tinny coming through the tiny speaker on her datapad. “Miss me already, Princess? It hasn’t even been a day.”

Leia rolled her eyes and tied off the end of her braid before tossing it over her shoulder. She leaned in, supported by her forearms on her thighs. “If you can’t stand the thought of us talking every day,” she teased, “then marrying me might not be such a great idea.”

Even on the small screen, she could see him raise an eyebrow. “Hey, Princess, I’m not complaining.”

Leia shook her head and laughed before moving on. “I take it you landed on Chandrila?” she said, noting the room behind him, which was clearly not the _Falcon_.

Han nodded. “’Bout an hour ago. We’re waiting for our seller to make contact. He’ll give us a location. We’re meeting him tomorrow.” He leaned back and stretched out in his chair. “I gotta say, I could get used to these accommodations.”

“What is the Alliance having you pick up, exactly?”

“Medical supplies.” He frowned. “…I think.”

“You don’t _know_?”

“Wasn’t paying much attention during the briefing, honestly. Too busy biting my tongue about not being assigned with you.” He flashed her another grin, to which she responded with another eyeroll.  

“Yeah, well,” she said, “so far, you haven’t missed much.”

Han’s smile faded. “How’s Luke?” he asked, trying—and failing—to sound casual.

Leia almost found it amusing. “Luke is fine,” she replied, matching his innocent act. “I’ll tell him you said ‘hi.’”

“Have you talked to him?” he asked.

Leia sighed. No, of course she hadn’t.

He took her silence for an answer. “You even look at the files yet?”

She hesitated a moment before she nodded. Yes, she had. She’d spent several hours last night sluggishly perusing various articles and records (while carefully avoiding any holos), searching for confirmation of what she already knew. It had been quite a struggle; evidently, in the rush of trying to preserve as much information as possible, her father had failed to organize the files in any specific order or subject matter, and so she was forced to pick and choose at random. Some were first-hand accounts of battles, some were official documentation of bills passed in the Senate, some were news reports of events.

But all of them, in some way, involved Padmé Amidala.

“And?”

_And_ , Leia wasn’t sure what to say, or how to say it.

Han leaned in, his look of concern taking up almost the entire screen. “Sweetheart, you can’t figure this out on your own.”

“I know.”

“Telling Luke’s not just somethin’ you gotta do for him, it’s somethin’ for you, too.”

“I _know_.”

“And you can’t just wait till it goes away, ‘cause it won’t—”

“Han, _I know_ ,” she said, burying her face in her hands in frustration. “I’ve been through all of this in my head, believe me.”

“Leia,” he said, his tone a mix of sympathy and curiosity, “what are you afraid of?”

Leia shut her eyes, desperately wanting to tell him everything; it would alleviate some of the weight on her shoulders. Telling Luke meant opening a door she would then be forced to step through…

“I’m afraid of what happens after.”

Han thought for a moment, then nodded as he leaned back in his chair.

“Y’know, Princess, if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’re pretty good with ‘afters.’”

At her confused look, he continued, “What’d you do after Alderaan? After the Death Star?” he asked. “You picked up a uniform and started to fight. And after Bespin, you came lookin’ for me.”

“Yes, well—“

“And after the second Death Star? You left that hut and went right to Mon to start rebuilding up the government. Which, by the way, was a little rude. I’d wanted to keep you there a while longer.”

Leia dropped her eyes to her lap.

“My point is, you’ve always been good at taking whatever comes your way. It’s what I love about you, Princess.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Is that the only thing?”

“Well, that, and what you look like naked.”

“Ah, there it is.”

He grinned at her, and she grinned back, and for a moment, the two of them were quiet.

Finally, Leia surrendered. “I’ll tell him.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

He shook his head. “That’s not an answer.”

She shrugged. “It’s the best I can give right now.”

“All right,” he conceded, “but just so y’know, you’ll feel better when you do.”

He was right, of course.

A faint beeping noise alerted him. He pulled out his com.

“That’s our contact,” he said. “I gotta go. You want me to call you tonight?”

The smirk on his face gave his words a suggestive edge. Leia grinned but shook her head.

“No, that’s probably not a good idea,” she said. “Get some sleep.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “But maybe tomorrow,” she said with a wink.

He grinned. “See ya, Princess.”

“Later, flyboy.”

The screen went black. Leia pushed herself up from the mattress and headed for the door, hoping to find something in the galley for breakfast, deliberately leaving the datapad behind.

*

“So,” he said, plopping down onto the seat across from her as he set his bowl on the table, “what’s the plan?”

Leia lifted an eyebrow, but took a moment to chew her food before answering, “Plan?”

Luke had already shoveled three spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth. “Negotiations,” he said, though it came out something more like “Ngshh-shhns.” It was a habit that Leia, with her princess upbringing, would never get used to, even after all her years as a soldier of the rebellion. She understood him perfectly, however, which infuriated her and made it even more amusing for him.

“What about them?” she asked, purposefully taking the tiniest of bites as she stared him down.

He ignored her glare and swallowed. “What do we want? From Naboo, I mean.”

“We want them as an ally.”

“No, I know that, but—“

“What?”

Luke shrugged. “Aren’t we supposed to…I don’t know, prepare? What else do we want from them? If it’s only an alliance, I feel like we could have just made a holocall.”

Leia shook her head. “I have to sign the treaty in person,” she said, setting down her fork and pushing her plate away. “And we don’t just want a treaty, we want access to valuable resources on their planet.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one thing, plasma. You want your Jedi students to be able to build lightsabers, right?”

“…Yeah, I guess.”

“Then we need Naboo’s help.” She sighed. “I’ve been doing this for years. I know what kind of questions to ask, how to make demands sound like gifts, how to compromise…it’s what I’m good at. I’m prepared.”

“Okay…” He mirrored her, setting his spoon down and leaning back in his seat. “Then what am _I_ supposed to prepare?”

“Just talk about your plans for the Jedi Order.”

“ _What_ plans?”

“You don’t have any plans?”

“We’re in the middle of a rebellion,” he said. “It’s not exactly the best time to start stealing Force-sensitive kids.”

“…I’m sorry, but when is it _ever_ a good time to start _stealing_ kids?”

Luke took a suspiciously long time to answer. “Never, I think.”

“Well good,” Leia replied. “I’m glad we have that straightened out.”

“No, I mean…” Luke sighed and began to drum his fingers against the table. “The old Jedi Order took Force-sensitive children to train at a young age. A _really_ young age. And they were cut off from their families. No attachments allowed, according to the Jedi Code. Which included parents, siblings...” He paused for a moment. “They were forbidden to marry.”

 Leia frowned. “How do you know that?”

“There are bits and pieces of the Code in those archives.”

“Oh,” she said quietly. “But you don’t want that.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Well, there you go. That’s what you should prepare.”

“What?”

“Don’t just tell the queen that you’re rebuilding the Order,” Leia said. “Show her how you plan to improve it. I think they would like to know this one will be stronger than the last.”

Luke was impressed. “That’s…a really good idea. I hadn’t thought of that.”

Leia shrugged and smiled. “Like I said, this is what I’m good at.”

Luke nodded and picked up his spoon once more, and Leia rolled her eyes as he stuffed more cereal into his mouth.

* * *

_Day Three_

Leia had been right. She couldn’t look away.

_Is that my nose?_

A single holo filled the screen. A face both new and all too familiar.

Leia hadn’t bothered to read the article it accompanied, but she seemed to be giving some sort of speech. Standing at a podium with a crowd just out of frame, her lips wrapped around an inspiring word. Padmé was small, thin; and yet she commanded an authority that transcended the confines of the datapad’s small, glowing display.  

The first thing Leia noticed was her hair, Leia’s shade of brown. Two buns—resting just behind her ears—elaborately wound and decorated with gold trim. Her clothing was subtle by Naboo’s standards, but would still be considered extravagant by the rest of the galaxy. But Leia was transfixed on her face, finding bits and pieces of what she saw in the mirror—and whenever she looked at her brother. Nose? Hers. Brows? His. Eyes? They were the same color as Leia’s, but it was Luke who had inherited their shape.

_She has Luke’s jaw._

Or, she supposed, Luke had _hers_.

_Oh god,_ she thought, finally shutting down the datapad.

_I can’t wait any longer_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a delay in this chapter! Finals week took its toll on me, then my computer (ironically named Vader) died and needed to be repaired. I'm also sorry for drawing this out a bit, but I promise, next chapter, Luke and Leia will have an important conversation ;).


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time, Leia's the one with the family secret.

Leia stood outside his door, clutching her datapad and willing herself to knock, or barge in, or do anything else but stay frozen in place. She hadn't seen him since breakfast that morning, when he'd gone off to make conversation with the pilot, leaving her alone with her thoughts, as she had been way too often already on this trip. Still, she'd appreciated the time to collect herself, and to work through just what she would say--and how she would say it.

She reached out and touched her mind to his. His mind resisted, and Leia suspected he was in a state of deep concentration. Suppressing the urge to use this as an excuse to leave, Leia reached out, ready to knock on the door.

The door slid open before she even touched it.

She peaked inside to find Luke sitting cross-legged on his bunk, both datapads out, continuing the work he'd been absorbed in for the past couple days.

He stopped typing and looked up from the screen. "Hey."

"I hate when you do that," Leia said, stepping through the doorway.

He grinned. "It's practice."

"It's _lazy_."

He shook his head, still smiling. "What's up?"

Leia heard the door slide shut behind her. She gave him a pointed look as she came further into the room.

"Still working on that timeline?" she asked.

Luke sighed. "Yeah. There's a lot to sift through, and a lot of missing pieces."

Leia shrugged as she lowered herself into a chair next to the bed. "There was a lot they wanted gone."

"I guess so."

She took a deep breath. "Can I talk to you?"

If she hadn’t been so anxious, Leia might have laughed at the way Luke immediately sat up, tossed his datapad behind him, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Of course,” he said, giving her his full attention—something she knew she wouldn’t be able to lose until this conversation was over. He had been waiting too long (only a couple of days, but Leia knew that, to Luke, those days felt like lifetimes) for her to talk to him.

 _Come on, Leia_. “This shouldn’t be so hard,” she mumbled.

“What?”

She sighed. “I—“

“Does this have something to do with Han?”

She paused, taken aback by his interruption. “Um…no,” she said, shaking her head, “this has nothing to do with him.” _Well, not this, anyway._

Luke nodded. “So, it has something to do with me.”

“…Yes.”

“All right,” he said, “is it something bad?”

 _That’s a good question._ “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s not bad, it’s just…difficult to tell you.”

Luke smiled and scooted a bit closer. “Hey, I’ve been there, remember?”

Leia clasped her hands in front of her and rested her elbows on her knees, frustrated; every plan, every rehearsed word had disappeared and left her with nothing, no idea where to begin.

 _Yeah, Luke, I know you have,_ she thought, though she was careful to guard him from hearing it. _You made it look so easy_.

Luke was patient, but Leia knew there was only so long he could bear. He opened his mouth to say something—

“Do you have a middle name?” Leia found herself blurting out.

Well, it was as good a place as any to start.

Luke froze, mouth open—it was clearly not what he’d been expecting her to say.

“Um,” he said after recovering, “no.”

“Your aunt and uncle didn’t give you one?” She pressed on, hoping to get through this conversation before her courage abandoned her.

He shook his head. “It’s not considered very important on Tatooine,” he replied.

“I see.” Leia filed that little fact away, as she’d found herself doing with every tidbit Luke revealed about his life growing up on that planet—as if her brain was trying to come to terms with the fact that she was a child of the desert, too.

“Why?” he asked. “Do you?”

 _Here we go._ “Yes,” she said, “I do.”

“What is it?”

Leia didn’t answer.

Luke, in what seemed like an attempt to lighten the mood, asked, “Is it embarrassing?”

“No.” But his teasing did help, just a little. The half-formed speech she’d prepared began to return to her, bit by bit.

“On Alderaan, we had a tradition of keeping our middle names secret.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Witches.”

“What?”

This time, she couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s a very old belief, one from ancient times, that claims the only way a witch can curse you is if she knows your full name.”

“Witches aren’t real.”

“Of course not. Actually, we eventually figured out that the so-called ‘witches’ we were so afraid of were probably just early Force-sensitive people, and as far as I know, you can’t actually curse someone through the Force…can you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good. Still, Alderaan held this belief for thousands of years, and people used middle names to protect themselves—a secret name a witch would never know. It was considered especially important for the royal family to have these names, and keep them hidden.”

It truly was a ridiculous custom, and it sounded even more so when she explained it out loud. Luke looked ready to laugh, and she wouldn’t have blamed him.

She continued, “No one actually believes it anymore, of course, but you still aren’t supposed to reveal your middle name to a stranger.”

“I take it your name’s a secret, then.”

Leia nodded. “My father insisted I follow the tradition. I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone my middle name, not even my closest friends. In fact,” she said, “he didn’t even tell _me_ what it was until I was eleven, when I was old enough to promise him to keep it a secret from everyone but my family, and to keep that promise.”

When he didn’t respond, she realized he was waiting for her to tell him her secret. Because there wasn’t much closer family than the boy she’d shared a womb with.

Leia took one final deep breath. “My middle name,” she said, “is Amidala.”

She didn’t expect much of a reaction. Perhaps an _oh_ , or _hmm,_ or _what does it mean_? She definitely didn’t expect his eyes to widen, his hand to travel to his datapad, and his reply, “ _Amidala_? As in, Padmé Amidala?”

Leia watched, stunned, as he punched in his passcode.

“You _know_ her?”

“Yeah,” he said as he began to scroll, “she was—“

Leia cut him off. “I know who she was. At least, now I do. Mon gave me a datapad filled with every document, every holo, every news story there was on her. Or, rather, everything that my father saved from destruction by the Empire.”

Luke turned his screen toward her, revealing another holo of the woman’s face, one she hadn’t seen before.

 _Kind, but sad_.

Leia felt her stomach flip.

“Your father named you after her?”

“She was one of his closest confidantes in the Senate.”

“He never told you about her?”

“No. I think he was waiting for the right time.”

“Why?”

Once again, she carefully avoided a direct answer. “I never understood why he cared so much that I kept my name secret, or why he wouldn’t tell me where it came from.” Her stomach flipped again. “Or, anything about my birth parents. I was a war orphan, that was the official story, the one he let me believe. I guess he was right, in a way.”

She picked up her own datapad, which had been resting in her lap, and opened it to reveal a document.

Luke took it from her shaking hands and began to read over the death certificate. Leia silently pointed at a particular field: the date.

“That’s just after our birthday,” he said. “Same year, too.”

His face began to morph into one of understanding.

“Look at the cause of death,” she said, her voice wavering.

He stared, wide-eyed, as he read it aloud. “Complications of pregnancy.”

“Somehow,” she said as he turned to meet her eye, “I doubt that’s the truth.”

Luke’s voice became a whisper. “She’s—“

 _Our mother_.

Luke looked back at the datapad and selected another image, watching Padmé’s face once again flicker onto the screen.

Despite the weight of her revelation, Leia couldn’t help but breathe a deep sigh of relief. Luke said nothing.

“The Empire tried to wipe her from every record they could get their hands on.” She added, bitterly, “I think you can guess why.”

Luke didn’t lift his eyes from the screen, his face unreadable. “She looks just like you.”

“Yeah,” Leia said, “you have her chin, though.”

He finally looked up and met her eye. It wasn’t an easy feat to make Luke speechless.

“I knew it. As soon as Mon said her name, I knew it. My father took great pains to save those records of her; without his efforts, it would be like she never existed.”

She glanced at the holo, an image of a beautiful woman: a politician, a queen, a _mother_.

Luke finally collected himself enough to speak. “Did Mon give this to you on purpose? I mean…does she know?”

…Leia hadn’t even thought of that. After hearing her secret name spoken aloud for the first time in what may have been a decade, Leia hadn’t truly listened to much else. But now it seemed obvious. Mon had been a senator then; she and Padmé would have worked together for years, were most likely friends, and that coupled with their respective relationships with Leia’s father would have made Mon privy to certain information. Even if Mon hadn’t known, or Bail had never told her the full truth, she was an intelligent woman; it would not have been hard for her to put the pieces together.

She shrugged and said nothing.

“…What do you want to do?”

Leia pushed herself out of the chair, suddenly finding herself unable to keep still with his eyes on her. “I don’t know.”

“We’re going to Naboo.”

“Really?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest as she began to pace. “I had _no_ idea.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.”

“The people there have to remember her. We could find out more.”

Leia remained silent.

“…You do want to find out more, don’t you?”

“If we’re being honest,” she said as she stopped in the center of the floor, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

His expression become a mix of sympathy and curiosity. She hated it. “What _have_ you thought about?”

“Nothing but that”—Leia gestured to the datapad in his lap—“since I found out about it. That woman was a brilliant, respected senator who the Empire wiped from history, and my father just barely managed to save her from being forgotten; he probably wanted to show me these himself—and you, too, once I’d brought you to Alderaan. She’s our _mother_. I’ve gotten about that far.” She returned to the chair and hung her head. “I don’t know where to go next.”

“…I’m glad that you told me.”

“You had every right to know. She gave birth to you, too.”

“I know. But I understand why it was hard for you.” Luke looked back down at the holo.

Leia broke the silence. “The people who remember her might still be too scared to talk about her.” After nearly twenty-five years, old habits would be hard to break.

“Isn’t that our job, though?” he asked. “To let people know they don’t have to be scared anymore?”

He was right, and once again Leia was reminded of just how wise her brother could be.

Still, she couldn’t help but push back. “I don’t think I want anyone finding out about this yet.”

“No one has to.” He smiled. “We’re allowed to just be curious. Plus, politics and royalty are kind of your specialty.”

“This isn’t just politics and royalty. This is family,” she said, dropping her gaze. “I’m not really an expert on that anymore, if I ever was to begin with.”

He understood, of course, because if there was one thing Luke could relate to, it was complicated feelings about family.

“I’m not so great at it, either.”

Leia looked up and met his eye, and the two of them knew that for the moment, nothing more needed to be said of it.

“Can I keep this for a bit?” Luke held up the datapad.

Leia nodded. “The code is—“

“I know what the code is.” He demonstrated this by locking the device and punching in the string of numbers.

She stared at him. “Did you seriously just steal the code using the Force?”

He laughed. “I watched you type it in.”

“Oh.” Leia rose from her chair. “That’s a bit disrespectful of my privacy.” But she smiled.

She left him to further peruse the contents of the datapad alone, but that night, in the lounge, she sat down beside him in their usual spot.

“There’s someone there who can tell us more about her,” she said. “I’m not sure who, but we’ll find them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole "middle names are to protect from witches" is an actual thing that I've heard somewhere. I'm not sure how true it is, but it's fun.
> 
> I'm not going to even try to justify the two months this chapter took to post. Just know that I was out of the country for a month, and I had no idea just how long jetlag can last and suck up all your motivation and energy. I met John Boyega, though, so that was pretty sweet.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that this conversation was worth the wait. Feel free to go to my tumblr (amidalleia) and yell at me about not updating (and sorry to the person to whom I said the next chapter would hopefully be up in a couple days. That was a month ago, and I am terrible).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke finds more questions than answers.

She wore a lot of purple. Luke wondered if it had been her favorite color.

It had always been his. Purple was vibrant, mesmerizing, royal—a color so hard to find in the desert. He’d seen very little of it in his life before leaving Tatooine, but wherever it was it caught his eye, and it was so easy to get lost in it.

It wasn’t just Padmé’s purple gowns that fascinated him, however—it was everything about her. Her eyes, her smile, the way she stood tall in the Senate. Her way with words, how her speeches inspired all who heard them, how she strung each sentence together in a way that seemed effortless. And her voice…

_“Have you seen this holovid?” he asked, taking a seat on her bunk._

_“There’s a holovid?”_

_“Yeah,” he said, scooting toward her. “Here.”_

_He handed Leia one of his earpieces, and together they watched and listened as Padmé gave a rousing speech to the Senate arguing against an increase in the production of clone troops._

_“…who are we fighting for? My people, your people, all of our people. This war is meant to save them from suffering, not increase it…”_

_He hadn’t heard many Senate speeches in his life, but he was sure this was one of the best._

_“…if we continue to impoverish our people, it is not on the battlefield where Dooku will defeat us, but in our own homes…”_

…Luke thought her voice could move mountains.

_When the speech was over, he looked to Leia, who was staring at the blank screen, biting her lip._

_“Luke,” she said without moving her eyes from the datapad, “if she died when we were born, how can I remember her?”_

_The question had crossed Luke’s mind before, but he had a feeling Leia wouldn’t like his answer._

_“Growing up, I never had a clear picture of her in my head. I saw brown hair, and a soft face, but I could never pick out any discernable features. But that voice…” she said, drawing a shaky breath. “I’ve known that voice for as long as I can remember.”_

Aunt Beru had met her once—or so she said, before Uncle Owen hastily changed the subject, giving her a look he thought Luke wouldn’t see. But that night, as she tucked him into bed, Luke asked about her. Beru didn’t remember her name, she said, just that she was beautiful, and kind—words echoed to him years later by Leia on that bridge on Endor.

Padmé _was_ beautiful, and truly kind—and Luke would never know her.

He blinked back tears as he sat on his bunk and watched the footage of her funeral procession. Thousands of mourners, come to honor their fallen queen and senator as she passed through the streets of Theed for the last time. They mourned not just for her passing, but for the loss of her unborn child.

 _Child_. Every report written about the funeral said _child_. No one knew she’d been carrying twins.

No one knew that her _children_ had not been buried with her.

It was the first time he’d ever been jealous of his sister, even though some people expected him to be.

 _“You’re_ twins _?”_

_“Yeah. We were separated at birth.”_

_Wedge shook his head. “Man, you really got the short end of the stick.”_

_“How?”_

_He shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She got to be a princess. You got sent to a desert, farmboy.”_

_He said it jokingly, but Luke felt a pang of sadness in his chest._ None of that matters now _, he thought._ We both lost it all in the end.

Luke knew the Force had guided them down the paths they were meant to travel, and he would not have traded his life with Owen and Beru Lars for any wealth or status. He had never resented what Leia had been given.

Not until now. The Force had granted Leia visions of a mother neither of them could possibly remember, taken from them in infancy, and Luke couldn’t understand why he had been left with nothing.

There wouldn’t even be a tomb, he realized, and his heart sank. If the Empire had truly done everything in their power to wipe her from history, no memorial would have survived.

Luke suddenly felt very sick. He shut off his datapad, no longer able to stomach the sight of the loyal subjects who had wept for their queen only to be forbidden to speak her name.

He forced himself to lie back in his bunk and breathe. He hadn’t felt this shaken since Cloud City; once again, the truth of his bloodline had brought him pain, confusion, and anger. The story of his _beautiful_ and _kind_ mother was a tragedy, one that left him with more questions than answers.

 _This is not Bespin_ , he thought as he squeezed his eyes shut, the funeral procession replaying over and over in his head. _Padmé never became a monster. I still have my hand._

_And this time, I have a sister._

*          *          *

 

A few hours and a nap later, Luke made his way to the cockpit to find Lieutenant Doorna reclining in the pilot’s seat with her back to him, feet resting on the console, sipping a cup of caffe and staring out the viewport into the blackness of deep space. He gently knocked on the door frame to alert her to his presence.

She spun around and, upon seeing who her visitor was, sat up straight in her chair, nearly spilling the hot beverage. She quickly recovered and gave him a small salute.

“Commander Skywalker,” she said. “Can I help you?”

“Just Luke,” he replied, smiling. He gestured to the co-pilot’s seat. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, of course.” Skye set her caffe down on the console and removed the clutter from the chair consisting of a jacket, a datapad, a comlink, and a couple flimsy magazines. Once she’d set them aside, he sat down.

“I wanted to ask you how everything was going,” he said, gesturing to the viewport and the stars beyond.

“Oh, it’s going fine,” she replied. She paused for a moment. “Better than fine, actually. I don’t want to speak too soon, just in case I’m wrong, but I think I might have shaved a day off our journey.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Skye reached over and pushed some buttons on the console. A holographic map of their flight plan appeared. Luke leaned in to take a look.

“This was our initial route around Hosnian Prime,” she said, pointing at a section of the map. “Going that way requires a lot of maneuvering through hyperspace lanes and is a bit of a hassle. It’s not very straightforward.” She pushed a couple more buttons, and a new route appeared on the map, one with fewer twists and turns. “This way is much more direct. A couple days ago I noticed it and made the decision to change course.” She looked away. “I probably should have cleared it, first, but I just barely caught it before it was too late.”

Luke shrugged. “It’s fine,” he said, looking over the map. “It looks like you made the right call.”

“It seems obvious now that I look at it. I’m a bit surprised Shara didn’t see it, though I guess she has a lot on her mind.”

“Shara Bey made this flight plan?”

“She started it, but I took over after Mon grounded her. Then she checked my—"

“What?”

Skye froze. Her eyes widened, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, god, I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

“Mon _grounded_ Lieutenant Bey?” Luke stared at her, incredulous. Shara was one of their best pilots, and not a rulebreaker. The idea that Mon could find reason to ground her was almost unbelievable.

Skye sighed. “She was originally supposed to be your pilot for this mission.”

 “What happened?”

She turned from him and reached over to turn off the map display. It flickered before vanishing from the space between them. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”

“Oh,” said Luke, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t have to, then.”

She bit her lip for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I might as well. It’ll get out soon, anyway. But, tell me you’ll promise not to tell anyone. Plausible deniability, and all that.”

“Um, okay,” Luke said, though he wasn’t sure if he should listen.

Skye leaned in and lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. “Shara’s pregnant.”

Luke had no idea what he’d been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been _that_.

“She’s _pregnant?_ ”

“Shh!” Skye glanced toward the open door, hoping his voice hadn’t carried down the hallway. “Like I said, I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But she’s about six months along. It’s amazing she kept it hidden for so long.”

 _Six months_. Once Luke recovered from the surprise, he couldn’t help but laugh a little. Since the destruction of the second Death Star, there had been a _mysterious_ increase of women in the Rebel Alliance asking for safer, fewer, and less strenuous assignments. _Endor babies,_ everyone said with a smile. _It won’t be long until the Endor babies start coming._

It was a good thing, Luke thought. A reflection of the happiness victory had brought to them, and to the galaxy. But for Shara to conceal it for so long was impressive.

“Mon was furious when she found out and demanded that she stay on-base until the baby is born, but you know Lieutenant Bey. I’m sure she’ll convince Mon to give her more missions, once the anger subsides. She’s one of the best we’ve got.”

Skye scooted back in her chair. “Anyway, Shara recommended me for this job. I know I seem a little young for a mission like this, but she’s been training me for a while now.”

She _was_ pretty young. Leia had told him that Skye had enlisted at eighteen, and was now twenty-one. However, her record was quite impressive for someone of her age, and Luke was not one to judge anyone in the rebellion based on how old they were; after all, he’d been nineteen at the Battle of Yavin.

“Well, I think the toughest thing about these kinds of missions is how boring they are,” he said, smiling. “If you’ve really cut down our travel time by a day, the crew will lay down their lives for you.”

She laughed. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Luke suddenly remembered the real reason he’d come here. “You’re from Widow, right?”

Skye nodded. “I lived there until I was sixteen, before I ran away to become a pilot. It’s kind of boring, compared to Naboo.”

“Have you ever been to Naboo?”

“Once, when I first left Widow. It’s much easier to find a ship that can travel outside of the system there.”

“Do you know anything about its…politics?”

She shook her head. “Not much at all.”

“Oh,” Luke said. “Does the name _Padmé Amidala_ sound familiar?”

“Hm…” she replied, “I don’t think so. Why?”

He shrugged, trying to hide his disappointment. “No reason. She was…” He trailed off, the rest of his sentence dying in his throat. He could no longer describe her. The words _queen_ and _senator_ had become inadequate, but he’d promised Leia that _mother_ would remain a secret—and in truth, he wasn’t quite ready to say it aloud himself.

He shook his head. “I suppose you wouldn’t have heard of her. She died just before the rise of the Empire.”

Skye smiled. “A few years before my time. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

She turned back to the viewport. “All I’ve ever known was the Empire.”

“Me too. Actually, Leia and I were born two days after Empire Day.”

His thoughts turned to their first birthday together, back when they thought it was merely a happy coincidence. Their first birthday after losing the only lives and family they knew, not yet recognizing the family they’d found in each other. Han and Chewie had made them a cake and pretended not to see the tears in their eyes as they ate it together.

“Wow,” Skye replied, pulling him back to the present. “Not the best welcome into the world.”

“No,” he said, the image of Padmé’s funeral once again running through his mind, “not the best.”

 

*          *          *

 

Their journey would end tomorrow.

There would be a banquet waiting for them upon their arrival, where Queen Soruna along with the members of the Naboo Royal Advisory Council would welcome their guests to the palace —and in the morning, negotiations would begin.

Leia leaned against the door frame of her quarters. “Did you take my advice about the Jedi?” she asked, looking at him through tired eyes. The two of them were ready to turn in for the night, but Leia needed a final check-in to put her mind at ease.

“I did. I have a lot to say, and I think I’m ready to answer any questions they’ll have.”

He was already in his night clothes—cinched sweatpants and a t-shirt. His eyes were slightly red from staring at his datapad for hours; the small portable consoles had been just about the only thing keeping them both occupied on this trip, other than lounge entertainment the crew shuffled together nightly to stay sane. Luke had practically attached his nose to his device over the nine-day journey; he’d had quite a bit to read.

“Good,” she replied. “If I have the time, I can look over your notes.”

“Thanks.”

She smiled softly, and her gaze dropped to the floor.

He took a small step toward her. “Are you okay?”

Leia gave a weak nod. “We haven’t even landed, and this mission is already more than I thought it would be.”

Luke rubbed at his strained eyes and winced. “Mon really blindsided us with that datapad, didn’t she.”

 _That datapad._ They hadn’t talked about it since the night he showed her the holo, when the voice she’d heard her whole life was no longer just inside her head. Luke knew it had spooked her, and while they hadn’t _said_ anything about it, the two of them silently agreed it was not the right time to discuss Padmé Amidala.

That time would come on Naboo.

She looked up to meet his eye. “Our most daunting mission yet?” she replied with a smile.

He laughed quietly. “Not at all.”

_Not at all._

Leia stifled a yawn.

“We should go to bed.”

She nodded. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“That sounds nice.”

He hesitated before reaching out to hug her.

“Good night.”

She returned the sentiment, and when they broke apart he smiled and turned to head down the hallway toward his own quarters. Leia entered her room and hit the door control, ready to slip on Han’s favorite shirt—stolen from his drawer the morning she’d left, more comfortable than any of her sleepwear—and get some sleep.

 

*          *          *

 

Luke stood beside his sister at the entrance to the ship, waiting for the ramp to lower. They were about to step onto Naboo.

"Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

The ship rumbled beneath their feet, the light of Naboo’s sun hit their eyes, and the two of them made their descent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My last semester of college is destroying my free time and my sanity, and this chapter fought tooth-and-nail to not get written. That's the only excuse I have.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please be assured that even though it's taken me a while in between the past two chapters, I am still actively working on this fic. Luke and Leia's journey will continue.
> 
> (Yes, I know Poe was already born by the end of ROTJ. I fudged the timeline because of reasons.)


End file.
